We Are One.
MOTHER) The winters are cold on the world of Diocese. This
fact more than any other led to the collapse of the human colonies that landed here, oh,
so many years ago, so many generations. All of the Man places are buried in ice, and no
more Men come here. They think we are dead. And mostly we are, but not all. Scattered
tribes have survived. The final days made it possible. The final scientists changed us in
many ways. We are more resistant to cold. Women have longer hair, and it grows so very
fast. All of our clothing is made from the shorn hair of Survivor women, and woven into
warm garments that hold heat dearly, and keep out the cold. It is said that it is the Love
the Survivor women have for their people that provides the warmth.
Family is everything to a Survivor. To be alone is to die. To be one of a
Family is to live. Beasts that kill one, fall before many. Crops can be gathered, and
hunts are prosperous in the Warm Times. Food can be stored for Cold Time, and the Family
can survive.
The head of the Families are the Patriarch Survivors. These are human men,
who have been changed. They are stronger, faster, and they have another modification. What
is that? Later, I will tell you later. They give the Law, and the others obey. The
Patriarchs are old, they live longer than any other. It is said they are the original
scientists. This I cannot say, for I am young compared to them, although I have lived 27
Cold Times, which is considered a respectable age for the Family. I have born many fine
children for the Family. I live to serve them, as they do to serve me. We are Family. We
are one.
I have suckled each child at my breast, given them life through my body, and
it is right. Life is hard, and the Family must survive. I am the oldest of the Family,
save for the Patriarch. I bear the wisdom of the Patriarch to the Children, and teach them
the ways of survival. I am happy, and I love Father, who is our Patriarch. I am called
Mother, and many of the Family have sprung from my loins. They bear Father's blood, and
they are strong.
But the Winter is strong too, and this Cold Time is very harsh. The Warm Time
comes soon, but our food is almost gone. Many will die if we cannot find what we need, the
food that will sustain us. But there is another way. We are built for it, and we will do
as we must for the Family to survive. I will do as I must.
Now hear the words of the Father.
FATHER) I am the Father, the Patriarch of the Family. We are one
of many Families, all are One, but all must survive the Cold Times alone. It is as Mother
has said. We are different. We are not like Men. We are Survivors. I am made new by they
who came before, the Scientists. I live while others die, for I am stronger than any, and
I cannot die save by violence. I must live, or the Family dies. The Family is all.
Come with me, for it is time.
Look, see Mother? She comes to me. See her beauty, her long red hair, her
curves, her breasts that give life? I have a coat made of her hair, heated by Love. I have
touched her curves, and suckled at her breasts. I have delved into her depths, and brought
forth life with her. I love her as I have loved others, but none so much as she. But the
Family must survive. It is time.
I am the Father. I am different in many ways. But this is the greatest, the
final difference between the Survivors and the Men. Watch, and learn...
I take her in my arms. Her body is warm, and her hair smells of fresh water
and spices. I look into her brown eyes. There is no fear, only Love. I touch her naked
body, runnign my hands over her breasts, kissing her lips, loving her for her beauty and
her compassion.
MOTHER) I touch him, my hands playing across his firm muscles,
his well toned body, gently stroking his manhood, readying him for Love, drinking in his
rugged face, his strength, his Love. I lie back on the stone table, which is covered by
the soft furs of the snow wolves that live in the deep mountains. My body is naked, and I
am cold, but he warms me with his touches and his kisses. His unclothed body presses
against me, and his manhood is ready, pressing at my gates, sliding gently into me.
FATHER) This is the final difference. I am Father, and I have a
certain control over my body. I can control the length and shape of the Child Maker that I
carry. Only Patriarchs have this power, but all male children are Patriarchs. There are
few, and we are the Heads of families. Most Survivor children are females. The Tool
provides the life of the tribe.
But it has another use, when times are hard, and food must be had. Watch and
learn.
I slide the Tool into Mother. She gasps under me, moving gently against me.
The pleasure is great.
MOTHER) His length slides into me. He is full and hot, and I
welcome him into my depths. Although I know this is our final Love, it will be the finest.
He slides deeper, keeping slow gentle rhythms. Deeper and deeper until his Tool touches my
far walls, the very end of me, the farthest a Man could go. But not the Father.
FATHER) I slide into her, she is so warm and willing, and I Love
her so. When I reach the far walls of her, I make the Change. The Tool becomes sharp at
the end, slowly sliding through the wall, and deeper into her body. She gasps, and jerks
in pain as the Tool pierces her, but I make the second Change, and moisture comes from the
Tool, taking the pain, brining pleasure in its place. The greater the pain, the greater
the pleasure Mother will feel. There will be much pain.
MOTHER) AGONY! The piercing, cutting, farther into me, AAAHHH!!!
Then the pain fades, and there is only pleasure, such pleasure, deeper Father deeper. I
can feel the Tool gently sliding deeper, the pleasure is greater. My fluid runs from my
woman's place, blood and Love juices, staining the furs, slick and hot against me.
FATHER) Deeper and deeper I go, moving the tool to avoid cutting
the organs of life, for the end must come in the True Way. To kill Mother this soon would
be a terrible crime. I must preserve her, give her the pleasure that she deserves. Deeper
and deeper...
MOTHER) The pleasure is beyond thought, it strikes into me,
wracking me like a whip of leather. I cannot speak, only gasp and move under Father,
reduced to an animal by the pleasure, the waves of orgasmic fury that rip through me like
a flood of Love. The Tool tickles my lungs, and I can only laugh, and scream with the
pleasure. My fluids flow hot and fast from me now, and I feel light headed, but the Tool
is stronger than my will, and I cannot move from it, and would never wish to do so.
FATHER) Gently I move, careful around the lungs and heart, then
to the final place, the breathing tube. I pause to look into Mother's eyes, for this is
the end. She smiles up at me, her vision clouded by the pleasure, and by the loss of
blood. She nods, and one hand rises to stroke my cheek. It is time, and in her quiet way,
she gives me the strength to do what must be done.
I slide the Tool gently into the breathing tube, and up her throat.
MOTHER) He hesitates at the end, as I knew he would. It is hard
to be the Father, to kill the Mother. I stroke his cheek, and smile. His eyes are wet with
tears, and I feel their hot moistness on my cheeks as he leans to kiss my lips. Then I
cannot breathe any longer. The Tool is in the breathing tube, running up the throat. Then
it slides into my mouth. My tongue licks the Tool, and Father moans softly, and kisses me
hard, his hands on my breasts. I feel my life draining away, the air cut off, but I lick
and pleasure the Tool with my lips and tongue, and I feel the Tool shudders. Hot fluid
sprays into my mouth, sweet and salty at once, the final drug. It splashes against the
roof of my mouth, as my face purples, and my hands curl into claws. I arc my back against
Father, eyes wide, can't breathe, can't breathe, can't... ...kkkkkkkkk*
FATHER) I cum hard into her mouth, as she fades away. Her face
darknes and she shudders under me, then goes limp. Slowly I push the Tool out her mouth,
and her tongue slides out with it, leaving a final slick trail of saliva and cum on the
Tool. The Tool extends to its full length within her, longer than her body, and I strain
my muscles to lift her body. I stand, Mother held before me by the hard Tool. It is
painful, but I bear the pain proudly, lifting her weight, and bearing her body to the
flames of Sacrifice. The pain of burning will be great, but it is the Way. I cannot take
Life without a Price. The pain is that Price. I will make food of the body, and will keep
the head to preserve in the hall of Sacrifice, that she may watch the Family.
The food is prepared, and Mother is layed out on the table for the young. Her
body is golden brown, so lovely, her arms crossed on her body just under her breasts. Her
face is unharmed, and her long red hair is arranged around her. The children are sad, but
they know the Way, and that the Family is all.
Gently, timidly, the youngest picks up a sharp knife, and one final time, she
takes sustenance from Mother's breast. It is good.
We are Family.
We are One.
Copyright by Moira Lynn.